Shut Up, Merlin
by katlizhan
Summary: After a boring day at court, Arthur summons Merlin to his chambers late at night, where things soon turn steamy... Set during S4. Part 2 coming soon!


**Part 1**

Arthur Pendragon sat at the desk in the far corner of his chambers, idly tapping his quill against the smooth oak. The ink was still wet, but he would get Merlin to wipe up the splotches in the morning. Dusk had long since settled over Camelot, and the King felt a yawn build in the back of his throat. After spending the day attending to trivial matters of court, Arthur relished in the brief moments he managed to spend alone without some Lord at his heel. He halted his tapping and watched the ink marks slowly seep into the grooves of the wood- perhaps it would be foolish to leave it to dry overnight. With a sigh, he pushed himself from the desk and plodded out into the hallway.

_"__MERLIN!"_ he yelled so loud the boy would have heard him even from the dungeons. He waited.

And waited.

Until finally he saw a bony figure turn the corner, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

"You took your time." Arthur swivelled and strode back into his chambers.

Merlin yawned. "It's the middle of the night."

"It's urgent," Arthur said as he folded his arms and sat atop the corner of his desk. His servant's face turned grave.

"What's happened? Is it Morgana?" He looked ready to leave at a moment's notice.

Arthur indicated the spilled ink with a tilt of his head and raised a brow. "The ink. I need you to clean it," he said matter-of-factly.

_"What?"_ Merlin leaned closer and twisted his face into a squint. "Is that it? You got me out of bed in the middle of the night to clean up some _ink?"_ He stared at Arthur in disbelief, who watched in mild amusement. "Why don't you clean it up yourself?" he finished, flustered.

"I'll make it worse," Arthur said simply.

Merlin was taken aback._ "Worse?_ It's just a bit of ink Arthur, even a... a _goblin_ could clean it up! What do you think I am, your-"

"Servant?" he finished for him. Merlin's mouth clamped shut. "And now it's a lot of ink." Arthur casually tipped over the pot of ink with a nudge of his index finger. _"Oops,"_ he said with sarcasm, and delighted in the look of utter disbelief on Merlin's face.

"Fine, since you _woke me up_ anyway!" Merlin huffed and fetched a cloth.

Arthur enjoyed watching Merlin work- not because he found joy in it, but because most of the time Merlin was so fixated on whatever it was he was doing, he would be unaware of what was happening around him. His brow would furrow in silent determination, and his breaths would become more laboured with the effort. Sometimes, on a particularly warm day, sweat would gather along his temples and glisten as it ran down his face, and he would always pad it away gently with the cuff of his sleeve.

As he busied himself with the ever drying ink, he hummed a tune the King did not recognise. Arthur watched from his perch, and found that his eyes were no longer seeing what Merlin was doing, but rather, what the _rest of him_ was doing. His gaze wandered from his face to the curve of his neck, and further along his spine to his gently shifting hips. He was not at an angle to see more, though he wished that he was. Arthur gulped down the lump in his throat.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole time?" Merlin said through grunts. He stopped briefly to glance in the King's direction.

Arthur ignored him. "Where were you all day? I didn't see you- and don't tell me you were in the tavern all day."

"I was with Gwaine." Merlin resumed his task. "He wanted me to help him with a few things, so I did."

"What, helping him empty the tavern?" Arthur nudged him gently in the thigh with his foot.

Merlin sighed. "No. I mended his cloak, polished his armour and sharpened his sword. He was very grateful- more than _you_ ever are."

"Did you _polish_ anything else while you were at it?" Arthur snapped too harshly. He didn't know why it angered him.

"What?" Merlin chuckled, his lips lifting into an adorable grin that sent Arthur's stomach aflutter. "Even if I did, what's it to you?"

The fluttery feeling in Arthur's gut soon morphed into one of jealousy. "Even if I spend all day in court you're still my servant, not _Gwaine's_."

"Sounds to me like you're jealous," Merlin teased.

"Of Gwaine?" Arthur scoffed. "I think not."

Merlin laid the cloth neatly on the desk and used Arthur's shirt to clean his hands. He smirked victoriously at the smudges of ink all over the faded red cotton. "Sure, if you say so, _sire_."

Without losing eye contact, apart from the brief moment his vision was obscured, Arthur tugged the soiled shirt over his head and leaned into Merlin's space to toss it on the set of drawers against the stone wall behind him. He did not move back.

"What are you.." Merlin cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

Arthur did not answer immediately, but instead admired the deep blue of Merlin's eyes; he could get lost in that sea- and be glad of it. They were stood so close that Arthur could feel the heat of their breath against his face. "It's dirty," he whispered back, aching to run his finger along the curve of the boy's jaw. "You'll have to wash it."

Merlin gulped audibly.

"Touch me, Merlin," Arthur breathed without thinking. It was a wish he'd held for many of the years that they had known each other, but one that he had always tried to deny. To run his fingers through his thick mass of dark hair, to bury his nose in the small of his neck and inhale the scent of him. His dreams ran deeper, too. Whenever they had a heated debate, he would imagine pushing the boy against the wall, or even onto his bed, and silencing his words with a deep kiss. Those thoughts had often kept him awake during the small hours of the night. He knew, as his heart hammered in his chest, that he could deny it no longer- he was truly, hopelessly in love with the boy. And he'd be damned if he didn't act on it.

"I don't understand," Merlin said, though did not move away.

"Touch me," he repeated. The boy was still bemused. "I need to be sure... that this is what you want. I don't want to force you. You're in control," he assured.

"And what is... _this?" _

A million thoughts swam through Arthur's head- he wasn't entirely sure himself. "I want you, Merlin... I have for a long time. I need to know that you want me, too."

Merlin nodded. "And I'm in control?" A sliver of a smirk tugged at his lips. Arthur wasn't sure that he liked where this was going.

"Yes."

The boy traced the line along Arthur's collarbone, barely making contact. It sent a shiver through his veins. "Well, then. In that case..." Merlin closed the gap and pressed their lips together. The kiss felt like it lasted an eternity. In reality, it lasted a mere few seconds. Arthur pouted, but knew that it was given as an answer. As consent.

"Take off your jacket," Arthur demanded.

Merlin took a step back and tutted. _"Take off your jacket," _he parroted in a poor imitation of the King. "I'm in charge now, you said so. _You_ take off my jacket. And your trousers."

Arthur held his tongue, but did as he was told and pushed the worn brown jacket from Merlin's thin shoulders, dropping it to the floor. He moved to undo the deep red scarf around his neck, though was swiftly swatted away.

"Your _pants_, I said. I want to look at you," Merlin said in a somewhat authoritative tone. Arthur flushed, and gingerly pushed the fabric down his legs. His servant inspected him from head to toe as he would inspect a set of polished armour, paying special attention to his groin area- which was throbbing in discomfort.

"Mm, not bad." Merlin tapped a thoughtful finger on his chin.

"Not _bad?"_ Arthur was growing increasingly impatient. Despite Merlin's attempt to seem disinterested, he could see the arousal in the bulge of his trousers. It stirred his own almost to bursting.

"Yep. You'll do."

"I'll _do?" _

_"Yes,"_ Merlin sighed dramatically, "that's what I said. Now, if I'm in charge, I could make you polish my boots, and tidy my room, and-"

"Merlin."

"-collect herbs for Gaius, and muck out the stables and- _OW!"_ The book hit him square in the chest. He rubbed at it, face like a wounded puppy. "What was _that_ for? I was joking."

"Yes, _Merlin_, and as you can see, I'm not in the mood for jokes." Arthur didn't give the boy time to respond before he strode over and seized him in his grasp. In primal lust he lifted Merlin from his feet and threw him atop the crimson sheets. He followed a beat later, enveloping the boy completely beneath his exposed body. And just like that, their roles were returned to normal.

"Arthur, I'm still wearing my clothes-"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur growled and melded their lips together. Their breath was hot and ragged as their mouths clashed fervently and fought for dominance. He tasted of minted vinegar. Merlin surrendered to his King, allowing his tongue entry into his mouth. He used one hand to grip a handful of blonde locks, whilst the other wandered and scratched along Arthur's toned back. They ground their hips together until Arthur couldn't take it anymore- he needed to feel skin. He broke the kiss with a pop, then pulled Merlin into a sitting position to remove his blue tunic. His trousers were discarded soon after, along with their other clothes. For a while he sat and looked at the man below him. This was their first time, and he wanted to remember every detail. The flush that coloured his shapely cheeks, the dark fuzz that peppered his heaving chest and ran in a smooth line down his stomach until it spread around his groin. It was then that Arthur decided that Merlin was beautiful. He would never say so out loud, of course.

"Arthur? What's wrong?" the boy asked, the furrow in his brow once more returned. Arthur undid it with a touch of his lips.

"I wanted to look at you." Arthur entwined a cluster of the fuzz around his pinkie.

He lowered himself to gently nip at the base of Merlin's neck, working his way up to the lobe of his ear and along his jaw to end at a plump lip, leaving wet red marks along the trail. He smelled faintly of herbs and pinewood. Merlin hummed in approval, his eyes fluttering shut as their mouths lazily fought. Arthur's pulse throbbed in his manhood, every inch of him craving pleasure. He grabbed his length to position it at Merlin's entrance.

"Arthur..." Merlin's voice was thick with arousal.

It soon turned urgent.

"Arthur, wait, we're not... _ArthUUUURRR!"_ Merlin jerked backward and slammed into the bedpost. He winced in pain.

"Did I hurt you?" Arthur was panicked, frozen in shock. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong.

"No, but you were about to!" Merlin croaked. "You can't just... _shove_ it in there, I'm not a woman!"

Arthur was starting to wonder why he ever wanted this in the first place. The boy was truly infuriating. "You're certainly acting like one," he shot back. "What, then? Since you apparently know more than I do."

Merlin propped himself up on both elbows. "Well, Gwaine says-"

"Oh, of _course_ Gwaine says!"

"-that you need to, you know," he made a poking movement with a finger, "_loosen_ it up a bit first." He raised his brows and gave the most dorky smile possible. "Oh! And use something oily, like... oil," he blurted.

Arthur twisted his face into a mixture of confusion and disgust. "You know, Merlin, maybe you have been sleeping with Gwaine after all. Since you know so much, I take it this isn't your first time. Why don't you go ahead and show me the ropes," Arthur said sarcastically. He did not want to be thinking of _Gwaine_, of all people, at a time like this.

"What? Why would I sleep with Gwaine? He stinks of ale." Merlin almost looked offended at the very notion. Arthur took it as a compliment that he _doesn't_ smell of ale. "It just came up, you know, one minute you're talking about what's for dinner and the next you're talking about how to lube up a-ahhh...!" Merlin sucked in a sharp breath.

Arthur had hold of the blathering boy's manhood in a firm fist. He tried to keep his composure- he wanted nothing more than to grin at how adorably irritating he was.

"I'll use my spit. I'm sure it'll work just as well as Gwaine's method," he drawled out the name.

"I'm not quite sure..."

"Shut up Merlin, I've waited long enough."

"Now who's acting like a big girl," Merlin muttered under his breath.

Arthur raised a brow. "Would you like to repeat that, _Merlin_?"

"I said," Merlin's voice was raised, "now who's acting like a big giiiiirrrRRRR- _AH, ARTHUR!" _He squirmed and balled the bedsheets into his fists.

Arthur observed in silent triumph as he continued to tug up and down Merlin's erect length. That would teach him, but it was too good to stop. "Sorry, what was that?"

Merlin released a guttural groan. "GAAH, YOU BIG CLOTPOLE! _JUST PUT IT IN ALREADY__!" _He growled through ragged breaths, hips bucking wildly. Arthur chuckled softly. _Yes, sir,_ he thought.

Arthur made short work of readying the both of them, and breathed a long anticipated sigh of relief as he slid inside Merlin. At first, he made sure to move in a slow rhythm, but found that his desire burned too strong to keep it up for long. After a while, he pulled Merlin up to sit in his lap, and allowed him to set the pace. A grunt escaped his throat at every other roll of his hips, whilst his manhood slapped against Arthur's stomach with every thrust. Merlin rested his head against the other, foreheads slick with sweat, their breath mingling as they took turns to steal a kiss from the other. Arthur felt the climax building at his core, the unbearable heat urging him to quicken the pace. It came hard and fast, the blissful ecstasy crashing over him like a wave in a storm. He yelled out, or thought he did; he didn't know, and was only vaguely aware of the cry that followed in response. And the wetness all up his front.

"Arthur..." Merlin slumped his weight onto his lover's chest, drained from the release. Arthur cradled him like a baby and lowered him onto the soft pillow on the right side of the bed, then fell in a heap onto the left. Merlin snuggled into him, slotting a bony leg under and up between his King's.

"There's a pillow there, you know," Arthur grumbled. His head felt like it were above the clouds.

"I'd much rather use your chest, sire," Merlin replied.

Arthur ran his hand through the boy's thick hair, closing his eyes to replay the events over and over in his head. He made sure to skip through the parts about Gwaine.

"I love you, Merlin." The words escaped his lips before he could even think them. They came from the deepest corners of his heart, and held a firm certainty- and a promise, Arthur realised, to cherish their bond forevermore. Two sides of the same coin, Merlin had once said.

"Mm... Hey, Arthur?" Merlin's words were muffled by Arthur's chest. "What should I tell Gaius? About the limp..."

Arthur's muscles stiffened. "The _what?" _

Merlin craned his head around. "The limp," he repeated casually. "Well, that was my first time, and you were kind of rough with me, but I admit that was my fault for teasing you... Although, if you'd use _Gwaine's_ advice, it wouldn't have-"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur shoved him onto his side of the bed and silenced his nonsense with a kiss.

* * *

**_A/N_****_(edit)~ I'm editing this A/N because wow... I need to chill lmao. Anyways, part 2 is coming soon. It's going to be a whopper!_**


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